


tales from the flowers

by keymlks



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Fluff, Hospital Setting, Jihoon-centric, M/M, Red String of Fate, lapslock, lots of talks about fate, maknae line but they're not really mentioned either, mentions of abuse, not a lot of romance, probably a lot of grammar mistakes, seungkwan/vernon but they're not really mentioned, yoon jeonghan is the friend we all want, you'll understand when you read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keymlks/pseuds/keymlks
Summary: when jihoon glances out the window, all he sees is a web of red, threads tangling and tripping. when his eyes fall to the palms of his hands, all he sees is lone white thread, lying limp. the pores on the surface of his palm cries when he clenches his fist, but jihoon doesn't pay it any mind.or in which jihoon can see soulmate threads (and do more than that)
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 66





	1. sea of strangers

**Author's Note:**

> that was a really shit summary i'm sorry i was in a hurry to post this
> 
> there'll be 4 chapters with one epilogue and i'll probably update every few days when i've edited the chapters. also, just a heads-up, i really suck at writing things with plot because my stories are really choppy. anyway, thanks for taking out your time to read this? its not the best aha

a petal drifts in the wind, light and fluttering, riding the winds too quickly for his eyes to catch. the petal flashes a pink in the light and jihoon thinks it’s a little ironic, considering pink is the only colour of light that didn’t exist.

there’s the excited bark of a dog somewhere to his left but jihoon’s gaze merely trails towards the fallen petal on the floor. he watches the way it flutters lightly when a breeze passes by.

a brown shoe steps on the petal, rough and menacing. jihoon frowns, lifting his head to look at the murderer.

“lee jihoon,” a man clad in a brown coat with a grey button up inside says sternly. there’s a clip board in his hands and a beret sitting comfortably on his head. there’s a dignified glint to the frames of his glasses and jihoon blinks. “i demand my cupcakes.”

jihoon pauses. 

“i don’t owe you cupcakes,” jihoon huffs and he crosses his arms when jeonghan flops into the seat right next to him.

“you said you’d get me cupcakes when i met my soulmate,” jeonghan reminded, placing his clipboard in his lap. his legs were stretched out and his eyes roamed the area in front of him, as if analysing every tiny detail of the park.

“i said i’d get your soulmate cupcakes for good luck,” jihoon corrects. the petal he’d been staring at before was no longer there.

“why?”

“good luck for putting up with you,” jihoon says before sticking out his tongue at jeonghan, who punches him playfully in return.

jihoon’s hospital robes flutter in the wind and he eyes the blue dots scattered around them. the patient with the dog on the right eventually walks away and the barking dies down, leaving only the wind to accompany them.

“when are you getting discharged?” jeonghan asks, voice dipping lowly into a serious tone.

“discharged?” jihoon asks, lifting up his head to look at the sky. the spring clouds covered the sun like translucent greys and the sky wasn’t all that bright. “dunno.”

“seriously?” jeonghan asks indignantly, a frown pulling his lips down. jihoon smiles peacefully, like he was unbothered.

“they still have to run a few tests-“

“jihoon, you’re not just some test subject.” jeonghan cuts him off and jihoon feels his serene smile slipping from his face, a crack in his facade.

he quickly pulls the tips of his lips back up though.

“i’m not,” jihoon continued calmly, ignoring the way jeonghan rolled his eyes, muttering a soft “ _they don’t know that_.”

“‘sides, its not like they shipped me off to some research facility in some foreign country.” jihoon says, stretching his hands out in front of him leisurely.

“yeah, they’re just running tests on you like you’re some guinea pig to be studied.” jeonghan says distastefully. jihoon’s smile doesn’t fall off his face, after all, they’ve had this conversation ever since jihoon was first admitted to the hospital. “they’re just keeping you here under the guise of a being a ‘patient’, like you’re sick or something.”

“i am though,” jihoon notes, causing jeonghan to glare at him through the sides of his eyes. “i don’t think this is all that normal either.”

jihoon says the last part quietly. the white thread encircling his pinkie flutters in the wind like a surrendering flag — leading to nowhere.

jeonghan’s thread rides with the wind, bright crimson red without the painful imagery of blood. instead, it was bright crimson red with the pretty imagery of the soft touch of love, passion blooming in the colour of red.

jihoon watches a nurse strolling past. her string twists and tugs, life flowing through it. 

and he glances back at his own string.

“maybe it’s not,” jeonghan starts before he hardens his voice. “but it doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“dude, i could probably fuck up relationships.” jihoon says softly. “imagine if word of my condition was spread to the world, the chaos that’d create.”

“and, would you use your ability to toy with fate?” jeonghan asks and jihoon merely shakes his head. “see, you _won’t_ fuck up relationships.”

“that’s not how it works,” jihoon sighed, raising his hand when the clouds finally parted, translucent grey giving in to the bright rays of sunlight. his hand doesn’t block out much of the sunlight, but at least his eyes don’t hurt as much. “just because i don’t want to fuck up relationships doesn’t mean i won’t, accidents happen.”

theres silence afterwards, just the lazy chirping of birds as they sat there.

“aren’t you scared of being with me?” jihoon finally asks, glancing at the man seated beside him. jeonghan had a soft smile on his face, but after hearing the question, his eyebrow merely quirked upwards.

“what? scared of you? you’re so tiny, jihoon.” jeonghan grins and reaches up to pinch jihoon’s cheek. the younger merely dodges, squinting at jeonghan’s fingers.

the older only sighs and drops his hand before he turns his gaze to look at the sky.

“even if you somehow screw up my soulmate line,” jeonghan says quietly and jihoon can feel his heart freeze. cracks appear on his face and his smile drops when he starts chewing on the inside of his cheeks, holding his breath. “it doesn’t really matter.”

“not to me,” jeonghan smiles reassuringly, staring at a dot in the sky. “if i’m meant to fall in love them i don’t need some stupid fate line connecting my emotions to the one i love, they’ll already have all my heart.”

“shakespeare wannabe,” jihoon mutters, his gaze on the floor and jeonghan only kicks him lightly in the shin.

“‘sides, seungcheol’s a dork, i’m still on my way to learning how to love him, and i’m not going to stop just because my tiny friend manages to snap my soulmate line.”

jihoon winces when jeonghan says the last part but jeonghan only stares back at him with a level gaze.

“you don’t destroy relationships, ji.” jeonghan reminded before he stood up, brushing off the non-existent dust from his butt. “sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“and i’m just some sort of catalyst, right?” jihoon adds, a bitter laugh trailing after his words. jeonghan blinks, a thoughtful look falling over his face. 

“maybe, maybe not.” jeonghan shrugs, using the clipboard to shield himself from the sun. “you could think about it that way — but if i were in a relationship that was bound not to work out, i’d rather it ended earlier.”

jihoon stares up at the clipboard jeonghan was holding, not brave enough to stare at jeonghan. he registers the soft look expression on his face through the blur of his vision.

jihoon snorts lightly. “you should consider being a poet.”

“and you only met seungcheol a week ago, stop pretending to be a love expert.” he adds for good measure.

jeonghan only answers with sharp laughter, lightly hitting jihoon’s head with his clipboard. he adjusts the beret on his head, waving a quiet goodbye before he turns the other direction. the red thread around his pinkie tugs and a soft smile spreads across the man’s face.

jihoon’s head drops and he stares at the palms of his hands, watching how his fingers folded over the heart of his hands, how the joints of his fingers felt stiff.

when he glances back at the spot where the pink petal was supposed to be, there’s nothing but grey concrete and a bitter smile makes its way up to his face.

when he’s walking back to his ward, eyes blur and hands stuffed in his pockets, he bumps into a body. it’s not hard enough to knock either of them over, but when jihoon glances up to apologise, he meets the eyes of possibly the prettiest stranger he’s ever seen.

“sorry,” pretty stranger says, waving softly before walking away, not saying much else. jihoon watches the man go, and his eyes naturally fall to his pinkie.

there’s a white thread falling limply against his fingers, almost pathetically. jihoon sees it and he immediately knows — there’s no other side of the thread.

he’s about to reach out to follow the stranger, a hand stretched out to call him back. he’s seen that exact string before (two more times exactly), except he’d never thought he’d see another like it.

the stretched out hand had a white thread tied to his pinkie, flowing slightly in the wind. and jihoon too, knew, his thread would never lead to anyone. but that pretty stranger? jihoon didn’t quite understand.

“lee jihoon?” someone calls out in a professional tone, nothing at all like how yoon jeonghan had called him just an hour before.

jihoon turns around, hand frozen stiffly in the air, uncertainty rooting him to the ground. but when he turns back to look at the stranger who’s just walked away, he was no longer in sight, getting lost in a sea of strangers.

“we need you to be in your ward in five minutes,” the nurse reminds and jihoon drops his hands in defeat.

“got it.”

-

_tiny hands reach out, brows furrowed in curiosity and concentration._

_“jihoon, where’s your soup?” jihoon pauses when his mother speaks. he turns back around to face the bowl of soup in front of him, eyeing the contents in judgment._

_“where’s papa?” jihoon chooses to ask instead, hand not taking the initiative to pick up the spoon. his mother sighs, picking up the bowl in his stead, scooping up a good amount of soup for her son. despite all this, her eyes trail on the door with furrowed eyebrows that weighed down heavily, as if they carried the weight of the world._

_“he’ll be home soon,” she says, voice unconvinced even to jihoon. “he’ll be.”_

-

jihoon sits on his bed, the sheets rustling noisily below him. there’s no one else in his ward, so he doesn’t still as much when his bed creaks. there’s an iv drop attached to the back of his palm, shifting uncomfortably whenever he so much as moves.

the sun rays were splayed onto the crevices of his bed, filling the creases with unceasing light. it’s comforting in a way that hospitals usually weren’t.

the first few weeks at the hospitals had been spent in total quarantine, the only people allowed to enter were the nurses and doctors in charge of his ‘case’.

only after they were sure that jihoon wouldn’t do any sort of damage did they really let the boy out of his room, only leaving him with a stern warning about being careful.

jihoon had smiled grimly back then, stepping out reluctantly into the world again.

jihoon flops back onto his bed, lying down on the crumpled white fabric below his body. the ceiling looks back at him and they enter a silent staring contest.

jihoon thinks he loses after an hour when he pushes himself outright, disconnecting the iv drip from hand and walking straight out of the room. his hand feels a little numb and raw but he doesn’t pay it any mind, only tracing his steps back out into the lonely park at the corner of the hospital.

when jihoon sits on the green of the grass, the cool breeze fans his cheeks. there’s another petal that drifts from the top of a tree, falling to a spot on the ground. silently, jihoon muses if someone’s going to trample over it again.

a shadow emerges over him, looming in a way that jihoon frowns before looking upwards at the figure casting the shadow.

a tiny smile stretches the figure’s face and jihoon vaguely recognises that this was the pretty stranger he’d bumped into earlier.

“hi!” he says, voice airy with a bright grin on his face, eyes curved in crescents. jihoon blinks.

if you squinted, you could probably see the vast amount of question marks surrounding jihoon’s entire head.

“hi?”

“we’re the same,” the man continues, lifting up his pinkie. jihoon’s eyes widen and he slaps his left pinkie, as if covering it now would make any difference.

jihoon had never met someone other than him who could see the threads of everyone else — he just thought this came with his ability. 

“i’m not gonna hurt you,” the man says, holding up his hands with a lopsided grin still on his face. he drops himself down on the grass beside jihoon, hands plucking the grass in front of him. “i was just curious.”

“about what,” jihoon replies, curt in a way that would be rude but there’s fear seeping into the edges of his voice and he doesn’t think he sounds intimidating at all.

“your thread, duh.” the man rolls his eyes before an easy smile takes over his face again. “i’m soonyoung.”

“jihoon.”

“okay, jihoon, you look kinda lonely, can i sit next to you?”

“you’re supposed to ask that before sitting down,” jihoon comments but he doesn’t say anything else, eyes on the grass in front of him.

“yeah, well, sorry, my bad.” soonyoung shrugs. he raises his hand at the same time and jihoon can’t stop himself when his gaze drifts to the ruffled white string hanging off his finger.

“can you-” jihoon pauses before the words escape his mouth. no, he doesn’t think so, the likelihood of someone having the exact same powers as him?

“hm?” soonyoung asks, an encouraging smile on his face.

“nothing.”

“were you gonna ask if i could join soulmate lines as well?” soonyoung asks, a grin hanging off his face and jihoon lets a frown mold his face.

soonyoung stares at the confused expression on his face and his grin drops.

“no?” jihoon whispers, voice nearing the point of desperate confusion.

soonyoung pauses, and he frowns even harder. a finger plucks out a strand of grass.

“that’s-”

“soonyoung! we’re leaving,” someone shouts and both their heads whip around to look at the owner of the voice. it’s a tall dude with his hair swept to the side. jihoon notices how the red of his string cascades to meet the hand of the one beside him and he glances back at soonyoung.

“i’ll.. go…” soonyoung says, an uneven tone shaking his voice. he stands up, brushing off the back of his pants before fishing out his phone from his side pocket.

“would it be too much to ask for your phone number?” soonyoung asks, a sheepish look blurring the features of his face.

jihoon stares at the phone in uncertainty before he takes it in favour of giving soonyoung an answer.

there, he types his phone number and hands the phone back to soonyoung. his face is bright when he takes back his phone, eyes lit up in unadulterated joy.

“thanks,” soonyoung grins and he drops his hands before turning on his heel and walking in the other direction.

jihoon watches him go, until he’s standing right next to the guy who’s just called him. it only occurs to him how tall the dude is after soonyoung stands beside him.

when jihoon turns back to gaze at the lone petal on the floor, soonyoung gives a small smile and a wave before he’s leaving for real, walking behind the tall guy and his soulmate.

jihoon glances back at the loose white thread on his pinkie and he frowns.


	2. in the rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i have NO clue what this title is, but i don’t really know what this chapter is either so it seemed fitting

_jihoon shoves the earpiece deep into the crevices of his ears, winding up the volume of his music loud enough to drown out the sound of fighting from the living room._

_jihoon has lived long enough to know that having a soulmate didn’t immediately mean you were happy. meeting your soulmate wasn’t exactly like happiness and comfort handed to you on a silver platter._

_in the midst of countless books in the genre of romance, jihoon thinks sometimes people forget that the person on the other side of the string is also a human._

_a human with human desires, flawed and flawless in their edges. a human that had emotions, that got angry, sad, happy._

_in the midst of countless books in the genre of romance, jihoon thinks sometimes people forget that their soulmate isn’t just a puzzle piece — they weren’t made just for them._

_sure, you could simply argue that fate made it that way, they have to be perfect together. it’s your soulmate, your emotions are connected by a red thread, isn't that lovely? no one knows you better than your soulmate._

_you could argue that way, and jihoon doesn’t think that argument is that wrong either. instead, when jihoon lies down on the bed that creaks silently under his weight, he thinks maybe fate can make mistakes too._

_who’s to say the universe doesn’t have flaws?_

_fate has to look out for everyone, connecting string after string to lead them to their beloved. who’s to say they were even supposed to be romantically tangled with the person at the end of their strings?_

_it’s a prickly thing but jihoon thinks he has at least some sort of proof to his theory. he glances down at the broken white thread in his pinkie and he thinks it’s a flaw in the universe._

_he raises his hand to block the light from his ceiling and he curls it into a fist. it’s not normal; even people who lack soulmates didn’t have threads that looked like his._

_when soulmates die, their bond to the person at the other side fades, and the string crumbles like sand to leave a red ring around the person’s pinkie. it becomes less of a thread and more of a knot and a stain, a constant reminder of who you’ve loved — or should’ve loved — and who you’ve lost._

_it’s bitter but it’s also the last remaining thing you have left of them. some people don’t even get to meet their soulmates before their string crumbles and fades._

_the thing is, a white thread has never been reported anywhere. not in the news, not in scientific studies, not on search engines._

_believe him, he’s tried to find a trace of it._

_when night falls and the light fades from the bright behind his curtains, someone knocks on his door silently. his mother comes in, planting a kiss onto jihoon’s forehead, a fond smile on her face._

_jihoon smiles back, not commenting on how her eyes were red-rimmed and the black eye bags dragging her entire body down. when she turns back, jihoon stares at the red string trailing after her and he thinks maybe sometimes it’s more of a curse than a blessing._

-

jihoon glances at the door and then back at his phone. he’s probably repeated that exact same action about five times in succession in the past hour already.

if you squinted past the bright glare of jihoon’s phone, you’d see the text messages:

soonyoung  
is it fine if i visit u tmr

jihoon  
sure?

soonyoung  
(*＾▽＾)／

and that was pretty much the end of it — no time given, what he was gonna do or bring, nothing.

jihoon’s used to spontaneous visits, considering yoon jeonghan is kinda one of his only few friends and he’s nothing but spontaneous.

yet, soonyoung was a completely new figure in his life, a mysterious figure that had asked an odd question in their first meeting.

_were you gonna ask if i could join soulmate lines as well?_

jihoon wasn’t, actually — he didn’t even think it was possible. it was only after a few sleepless nights of tossing and turning, that he’d come to a conclusion that yeah, it did kind of make sense for such a power to exist in the world.

after all, lee jihoon held the opposite of those abilities, so who was to say joining soulmate lines was something so out of the world.

after a few more minutes of anxious waiting, the door to his ward clicks open and jihoon immediately straightens upright before pausing. what was he being so cautious for anyway? it wasn’t like he had something to hide.

right?

“hi,” soonyoung says, grinning and the air in the room is somewhat awkward and stiff but jihoon manages to hold back the cringe that’s threatening to make itself known on his face.

“hi…” jihoon says quietly, uncertainty evident in the way his voice curls upwards but he manages to have enough sanity to shift in his bed. he pats the spot on the corner of his bed, an invitation for soonyoung to sit.

they weren’t close enough to be friends, but they also weren’t complete strangers. they didn’t quite fit into the category of ‘acquaintances’ either, so where did that put them? in an awkward box with blurry lines.

“sorry for what i said that day, i guess it was a little weird…” soonyoung starts off but jihoon immediately waves his hands in denial. he wasn’t weirded out, just a little confused. soonyoung smiles when he sits down and jihoon takes this time to really study his face.

they were sitting side by side that one time they were actually talking and jihoon never really got to look at his face clearly. he thinks soonyoung looks better out in the sun, together with the flowers and out in the wild with the wind carding through his hair. he thinks soonyoung looks like a child of the sun, bright and unbound, someone who walks for the purpose of being free.

“i wasn’t weirded out, just confused.” jihoon says and soonyoung grins in reply, swinging his legs up onto the bed to sit in a cross-legged position.

“yeah, well, you’re kinda the first person i’ve ever seen with a thread as similar as mine.” soonyoung says with a thoughtful flash in his eyes. “guess we’re both soulmate-less.”

soonyoung says it in a way without any of the bitterness that usual people would have, the words merely coming out as acceptance. jihoon thinks they’re similar in this aspect at least.

“why is it white though?” jihoon asks, unconsciously inching closer to soonyoung on the bed, curiosity getting the better of him.

“i don’t really know either,” soonyoung frowns and he props his elbow onto his knee, leaning his head in his palms. “it just kinda happened when i was born.”

and then a pause.

“wait, you can see my thread?” soonyoung asks, confusion leaking out of his voice. jihoon almost rolls his eyes. firstly, kwon soonyoung had established that they had the same exact thread the moment they meant — which meant that soonyoung’s thread would logically be white as well. secondly, he could see red threads, wasn't that also already established?

“yeah, i can see everyone’s threads.” jihoon says, grimacing. “the nurse outside is connected to the doctor that checks on me every now and then, but i’m sure you already knew that.”

jihoon points out the door, emphasising his statement. soonyoung follows the line of his index finger and glances at the door, his jaw dropping.

“is that why you’re locked up in here,” soonyoung asks, voice hushed and his gaze urgent on jihoon’s face.

_it’d be nice if that was it._

“yeah, well, not really but yeah…” jihoon says, waving in the air vaguely. “it’s a marked condition though, seeing other people’s threads.”

“hasn’t there only been one person ever marked down in history to have this condition though?” soonyoung asks, an eyebrow raised. “and wasn’t he a poet or something.”

“yeah, they named this condition after one of his sonnets.” jihoon recites, having looked it up a million times.

“the curse of the red threads?” soonyoung asks, his lips curling upwards playfully. 

jihoon stares.

“sorry that wasn’t funny-”

jihoon snorts, a grin making its way onto his face before he doubles over in laughter.

“was it that funny?” soonyoung asks, scratching the back of his neck. jihoon straightens up, a light flush on his cheeks.

“just unexpected,” jihoon answers sheepishly. 

“so what was it actually named?” soonyoung asks curiously.

“it’s called the ‘incarnadine’ condition,” jihoon replies easily. soonyoung blinks and tilts his head in confusion.

“incarnadine, derived from a famous sonnet about being able to see everyone’s red threads. the colour of those threads are red, crimson almost — but because he was a poet, he just had to come up with a fancy word for it.” jihoon explains. “the incarnadine condition because when we’re in crowded places, all we see is the constant threads of red weaving a crowd together.”

“so it’s easier for everyone else to imagine?” soonyoung asks, plucking a stray thread from the hospital sheets.

“i guess? they just took it from him, i don’t know.” jihoon shrugs. “aren’t you supposed to know about this though? considering you have the same condition.”

“never bothered looking it up,” soonyoung says simply, plucking the thread out and twirling it between his index finger and thumb. he looks back up at jihoon, a smile hanging off his lips. “but it sounds nice.”

“were you never curious about it?”

“honestly, i thought everyone could see the threads until i went up to middle school.” soonyoung says. “and i’m not really the type to need answers, i just took it in stride — like hey, someone gave me this odd ability so i’ll just use it however i like.”

there’s a silence after his words and jihoon only raises a single eyebrow.

“wow.”

“don’t look at me like that.”

“i’m just surprised.”

soonyoung snorts, grinning brightly at jihoon.

“you did seem like the type,” jihoon says thoughtfully.

“what type?” soonyoung asks, inquiring gaze relentlessly on jihoon.

“carefree, i think.” jihoon says, a finger to his cheeks and a frown on his face. soonyoung’s looking at him with a look of surprise and jihoon drops the hand.

“that was kinda pretentious of me, sorry.” jihoon says, cringing a little. 

“nah, it’s fine.” soonyoung smiles. “just kinda sounded like you thought about me.”

jihoon rolls his eyes, ignoring the light flush that makes its way up to his cheeks. “yeah well, i’ve never seen anyone else with a white thread.”

“mhm, same here, though i guess we treat this condition rather differently.” soonyoung says thoughtfully. jihoon pulls his legs up and hugs them to his chest, hooking his chin over his knees.

“i guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is actually really boring i’m sorry also i have absolutely no idea why i made the dude a poet, it just came naturally. actually i might’ve been subconsciously thinking about shakespeare when i did that one.


	3. heavy strings, heavy heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jihoon tells soonyoung about his fears and jeonghan tries to get jihoon to face his fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t edit this i’m so sorry i got lazy and my head hurts a lot today. i just really had to upload this today just so i could get it off my chest.

_jihoon stares at the red thread that sticks to the ground as if heavy. his mother is somewhere in the room, heaving sobs that can be heard through the thin walls of their tiny apartment._

_soulmate threads aren’t supposed to touch the ground, he thinks. it’s allowing people to trample all over it, even though said people probably couldn’t even see the thread._

_jihoon can, though he doesn’t think he’d mind stepping on that stupid red thread right now. soulmates are supposed to be your fated ones, someone you’d feel at home with. jihoon’s long accepted that he’ll never find someone of his own, but seeing his parents’ thread lying pathetically on the floor like that? he thinks sometimes soulmates aren’t supposed to be fated._

_fated to ruin your life, maybe._

_there’s resentment boiling inside of his chest and the flame flares like it wants to escape, wants to leave the tiny space of jihoon’s heart and enter his world. all he wants to do is drag his mother out of their apartment and pack their bags and leave his father alone._

_but he can’t._

_because whether he liked it or not his mother would forever be connected to her ‘fated’ and they’d never be able to escape._

_he bunches up his fists, lips curling into an ugly scowl and he stomps to his room. resentment trickles out slowly and he doesn’t even notice when his left foot threads the fine red line._

_something snaps._

-

kwon soonyoung weaves himself into jihoon’s life effortlessly, like he was merely a fallen petal drifting in the wind that landed on jihoon’s hair. he’s soft and pretty, like how the sun bathes the side of his face when they’re sitting on a bench in the pathetic little park in the hospital.

“you seriously avoid red threads? i mean, isn’t there just physically too many red threads to try and avoid them all?” soonyoung wonders aloud. he’s facing jihoon even as they sit on the bench, his legs pulled up onto the wood and crossed in a cozy position. jihoon thinks it might’ve been just a little bit inconsiderate of him to pull his shoes up onto the bench.

“yeah,” jihoon shrugs. “it’s kinda like stepping on emotions? i want to respect their emotions enough not to trample on them.”

he doesn’t talk about what happened the last time he stepped on a red thread.

“i didn’t say anything about stepping on red threads,” soonyoung has this weird look on his face and jihoon’s eyes widen. he’d been too focused on not giving himself away that he had accidentally let his thoughts trickle into his words.

“uhhh i mean-” jihoon scrambles to correct himself. _stupid, normal red strings don’t drag on the floor._ “hypothetically, if a red string were to coincidentally be on the floor.”

it’s a stupid thing to say and jihoon knows from the look in soonyoung’s eyes that the latter knows he’s hiding something from him.

“look, touching strings just makes me sorta uncomfortable.” jihoon says after sighing. he’s staring at the corner of another bench in front of them.

“i get that,” soonyoung says gently and jihoon thanked whatever gods out there when soonyoung doesn‘t question his weirdness.

“do you do anything for fun?” soonyoung asks when the soft silence drags out too long.

“duh, you think i just mull about the hospital everyday with nothing to do?” jihoon replies easily, his voice edging on faux offense. he’s thankful for the change in subject; soonyoung’s always been good at reading social cues like that. soonyoung raises an eye, propping his head up on the side of the bench.

“then what exactly do you do, i’m sorry if all i see you doing is staring at the ground.” soonyoung says and jihoon snorts, allowing his eyes to crinkling in amusement.

“i guess i draw, or like, erm,” jihoon stumbles and he glances at soonyoung before he picks himself back up. “sometimes i like writing songs…”

there‘s this spark in the left of soonyoung’s eyes and jihoon already knows what his next question is going to be.

“can i see?” soonyoung asks and jihoon knows the brightness in his eyes isnt caused by the light of the sun. “or hear, whatever.”

“erm,” jihoon glances back at the bench. “i guess?” 

soonyoung possibly smiles even brighter and jihoon needs to squint to look up at him again.

“i mean, they’re not the best, i just like doing it for fun. so like, even if i show you they’re probably not going to impress you much and i don’t know, you probably won’t even like it-”

“you’re rambling,” soonyoung cuts jihoon off and the smaller boy slams his mouth shut, a warm flush warming up his cheeks. he squeaks when soonyoung brushes a strand of hair back behind his ear. “you could probably hand me a leaf and i think it’s look nice.”

jihoon pauses when a warm feeling flushes through his chest like honey water. there’s the swirling of pride and something more intimate that he doesn’t really want to address. he lets it stir, lets the feeling wash over him like a douse of lemon water.

“the leaf wouldn’t even be made by me,” jihoon points out, glancing at a tree to the side. soonyoung follows his gaze but his smile doesnt falter.

“the sentiment is there,” soonyoung reasons.

“is it really?” 

“yes.”

“i have trouble believing that.”

“oh c’mon, i just wanted to cheer you up.”

“fine, you win.”

“it wasn’t even a matter of winning and losing-”

-

jeonghan doesn’t step on a petal the next time jihoon sees him. instead, the man practically slams his way into jihoon’s ward, throwing whatever care he had out the window.

“jeonghan, this is a hospital.” jihoon reminded robotically, not looking up from his more-than-slightly-broken-laptop. 

“and what about it?” jeonghan says leisurely. jihoon thinks he sees him wave his hand airily from the corner of his eyes. someone else enters his field of vision and he hastily looks up at the newcomer, eyes drifting to the red string connecting jeonghan and the man he’d just brought in.

jihoon shuts his computer, trying not to panic when faced with a red thread. sure, he sees ton of these regularly, but he’s never been exposed to it for a long time ever since — that happened.

“hyung,” jihoon greets warily, his back stiff and upright. his fingers toy with the white bedsheets and he thinks back to that time when soonyoung had sat on his bed, fingers plucking out loose threads on the bed sheets.

there’s a significant metaphor somewhere in there that jihoon doesn’t want to look at or acknowledge.

“jihoon, this is seungcheol.” jeonghan says, and his voice held the tell-tale tone of ‘play nice, now’. he probably didn’t need to worry about jihoon acting out of line, considering the smaller boy couldn’t even move an inch.

“jeonghan’s told me a lot about you,” seungcheol says, his eyes crinkling kindly as he said it. jihoon stares at his face stupidly.

“jihoon, staring is rude.” jeonghan says and jihoon snaps out of it, looking away and ignoring the warm flush in his cheeks.

“hi,” jihoon chooses to say instead. his hands are fiddling with each other now, but his back is still straight and against the head rest, too stiff to be comfortable.

there’s a silence that blankets over them and jihoon swallows a string of saliva. he knew jeonghan would do something like this out of the blue, trying to get jihoon ‘used to being around stupid little red threads’ again.

he appreciated his efforts, but he seriously felt like he was just dunked into ice cold water naked.

jeonghan caves in first and he sighs.

he pulls something out of his bag and it crinkles when plastic meets skin. there’s a bento box placed in front of him, the smell of chicken wafting through the air.

“got this for you to eat, i remember you saying something about being sick of hospital food?” jeonghan says this kindly, like he was prodding a wild animal with a stick. 

“thanks,” jihoon says. his mouth still feels too sticky and he can’t bring himself to relax. his eyes trail back to the red thread and he’s screaming inside his brain but he can’t do anything other than sit there.

the silence drags and jihoon doesn’t bring his hands up to the bento set out of fear that they’ll start shaking.

“oh hey, wait, look at the time! i forgot i had something, sorry hannie!” seungcheol suddenly says and jihoon raises his head to look at him in surprise. he stands up from the chair beside jihoon’s bed and he raises his hand to wave, giving jihoon a friendly smile.

it was so unnatural that jihoon knows jeonghan probably had something like this planned in case of an emergency (ie jihoon panicked). seungcheol leaves with that genuine smile, stepping out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.

jeonghan’s thread tugs and twists.

“sorry,” jihoon says when the door shuts completely. jeonghan pulls himself up onto jihoon’s bed and he starts unpacking the bento set for jihoon.

“it’s fine, i just thought maybe…” jeonghan trails off, his hands slowing down. then, before he got too distracted, he shook his head and continued setting up jihoon’s meal for him.

the younger wanted to tell him that it was fine, and he could do it himself, but jeonghan probably wouldn’t believe him with the severe trembling of his hands.

“i tried, i’m sorry.” 

“it’s really fine, jihoon, don’t apologise.” jeonghan says, and he smiles at jihoon with sincerity that jihoon didn’t even know he was capable of. there’s gratefulness swimming in his eyes and jihoon looks back down on the table.

“it’ll take a little longer, but you’ll get there.” jeonghan says comfortingly, scooping up rice and raising the spoon to jihoon’s level. “until then, i guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

jihoon wants to ask why; why jeonghan was so willing to help him when he had absolutely nothing to gain from him. he wanted to ask why jeonghan would risk his entire bond just to watch jihoon overcome his fear.

he doesn’t, though. jeonghan moves the spoon closer to jihoon’s mouth and the younger doesn’t complain when he’s fed with plain rice.

-

“i lied,” jihoon says immediately when kwon soonyoung steps into his ward the day after, clad in a casual hoodie. his hair is blond in a way that jihoon knows that he bleached it recently and he takes a few seconds to be concerned about soonyoung’s dying scalp.

“about what?” soonyoung asks, raising an eyebrow as he goes to sit on jihoon’s bed, propping up the built-in table.

“avoiding red strings because i don’t want to trample on people’s emotions,” jihoon says, huffing quietly. 

“mhm and?” soonyoung asks, placing the plastic bag on the table before finally looking up to meet jihoon’s eyes.

“i don’t think i could care less about trampling on people’s emotions,” jihoon says before he immediately flushes when soonyoung raises an eyebrow. “like as in, in the soulmate string way, not in the real life ‘hurting feelings’ way.”

“uh huh.” soonyoung nods and jihoon knows he’s not interrupting because jihoon looks really desperate to get this off his chest.

“it’s just scary, i mean, i’m scared.” jihoon says and then he gulps and looks down. “like what if stepping on a string was a bad omen or something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway, jihoon faces his fear of red threads,, also i’m really dizzy and my head really hurts right now but comment if you have any questions!! i know i tend to omit things/forget to address some issues while writing...


	4. white strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guys tell ive given up on chapter titles and editing chapters 😀 ok but i’ll try my best to edit at least the last chapter.
> 
> also funny story but this whole au begun when i was thinking about the prompt of how someone could cut their soulmate’s string with scissors so jihoon kinda cuts their string in the middle of a shopping mall but i kinda twisted that and now it’s this lmao

_something snaps._

_jihoon feels it more than he hears it. theres this momentary feeling of loss and jihoon wonders if everyone in the world can feel it right now, the changing of fate._

_it’s a slow sinking in his chest. when he lifts his left foot up, there are crumbs. the crumbs looked like sand, falling and tumbling over one another and into the floor of the apartment, fading slowly one by one._

_it’s a slow sinking in his chest, but the fear claws up his throat just as fast, pulling jihoon downwards. he falls backwards, staring in horror at the lack of the red thread._

_there's the sound of crashing from one of the rooms and a loud sob. jihoon stares, transfixed on the thread. it’s only when there’s another loud crash that jihoon snaps out of it, eyes drifting to the door to his mother’s room._

_he lifts himself up shakily, dragging himself forward. his breaths aren’t even, but he pulls through and grabs the door knob._

_when he turns and swings the door open, his mother comes tumbling out on her knees, loud sobs wracking her entire body._

_her body lands on the floor and jihoon stares at her, the tears finally welling up in his own eyes._

_he drops to the floor, wrapping his arms around his mother in a painful attempt to comfort her._

_“i’m sorry,” jihoon cries. his fingers curl up in his mother’s shirt and he grips it tightly. “i’m sorry.”_

_he knows, perhaps the string could’ve just broken on its own accord, but jihoon knew deep down that it was him. when his left foot connected with the string, his resentment flooded out._

_“i’m sorry.”_

_it’s his fault._

_“i’m sorry.”_

_his parents,_

_“i’m sorry.”_

_they’ll never reach a happy ending._

-

_“jihoon?” comes a timid voice. jihoon curls up further into his blankets, pulling the sheets up further his head. “why won’t you come home?”_

_“they won’t let me,” jihoon whispers, his voice cracking. there’s a weight at the end of his bed and jihoon squeezes his eyes shut. they wouldn’t let him go home, that was true, but he didn’t want to face home either._

_“we’ve called for a divorce…” his mother says, her voice lethargic and jihoon exhales shakily._

_no one even gets divorced anymore, fate never lead anyone astray._

_right?_

_“he’s moving out in a week,” she says. jihoon thinks there’s a tinge of hopefulness in his voice but maybe he’s confused._

_silence drags in the room and jihoon curls further into the blanket._

_“i don’t blame you for what you did,” she says and jihoon bites down on the flat of his thumb. “we weren’t right for each other.”_

_jihoon wants to argue, but he doesn’t have any evidence that his parents had been a happy couple. at the end of the day, he had much more negative memories than positive ones._

_yet, he can’t help but feel that maybe his parents could’ve been brought back together. fate never plays games, fate knows what they’re doing. maybe his parents could make up after a few years._

_but now that hope was gone, because jihoon had to go and trip things up._

_“i’ll find a job,” she sighs and a hand lands on jihoon’s leg. he tries not to flinch. “we have to pay for your hospital bills as well.”_

_“they’re paid for,” jihoon says and his heart runs in his chest. he hadn’t told his mother about the testing, about him turning himself to the doctors purposely because he didn’t trust himself anymore._

_“why? who paid for them?” she asks and there’s a tugging on the blanket. jihoon grips it tighter, holding it in place._

_“the doctors,” jihoon whispers._

_“why?”_

_“because they-”_

_“are they doing anything to you?” jihoon’s mother cuts in and jihoon immediately shuts up._

_“no,” jihoon replies, praying to whatever god out there that she drops the subject._

_“then why would it be paid for? there’s no free meal in the world.” she counters and jihoon clenches his fists and unclenches, trying to dispel his panic._

_he pulls himself back up, throwing the blanket over his face. he sits on the bed and stares into his mother’s eyes blankly. there’s thinly-veiled shock in her eyes and jihoon can only hope that surprise will get jihoon out of his situation._

_“they just felt sorry for me, it’s a unique condition, nothing else.” jihoon says as firmly as he can, but he hides his shaking hand underneath the blanket._

_his mother merely stares back at him, nodding absent-mindedly. she drinks in the sight of jihoon, like she hasn’t seen him in days — no, she hasn’t seen him in weeks._

_jihoon swallows, tries to quench his anxiety. when his fretful eyes dart around the room, they land on his mother’s hand on the blanket. there’s the string, the white broken-off thread that blended it well with the white of the hospital sheets._

_there’s this boiling panic that rushes up his stomach and engulfs it whole, like fire wrapping around wood. it swallows him whole and jihoon shoots back into his little safe space underneath the blankets._

_his hands shake and the white thread on his own finger trembles._

_it wasn’t that he never had a soulmate._

_he’s just always had a severed thread his entire life._

_and it was his own fault._

-

“soonyoung, the thing you said about joining threads when we first met,” jihoon says hurriedly, staring desperately into soonyoung’s eyes. the latter stares back at him, uncertainty and fear lingering in his eyes.

“oh haha, that? that was just a joke-”

“i have a similar ability,” jihoon says and soonyoung seals his mouth immediately, his eyes widening.

“it’s this thing where i can break soulmate threads and they turn out looking like this,” jihoon huffs, lifting up his pinkie finger to show the limp white thread dangling from his finger. soonyoung stares openly at it and glances down at his own, an unreadable look on his face.

jihoon’s always considered this, ever since his meeting with his mother those months ago and seeing her white thread for the first time. he’d thought, _would my soulmate have suffered the same fate as me? to have a broken white thread?_ then, he had met kwon soonyoung, who had somehow managed to fill those requirements.

at first, jihoon thought that maybe kwon soonyoung was just like him, another boy with an odd set of abilities that caused his thread to be severed — a punishment from the fates. but as time walked by, that feeling sunk slowly, like it was being put to sleep and another thought surfaced.

_is kwon soonyoung my soulmate?_

while this revelation probably put an end to most of jihoon’s problems — ie his heart thumping really quickly whenever kwon soonyoung so much as appears, or the fact that he’s probably falling harder for soonyoung than he’d like to — this also brought so many more problems that jihoon didn’t even want to think about.

it was his fault that they’d never have a complete soulmate bond, all because of his shitty ability.

“and i didn’t think i’d ever meet anyone else who had my thread,” jihoon says quietly.

“so, you’re suggesting that we’re soulmates.” soonyoung ends quietly, his face completely blank. jihoon squeezes the sheets in his hands and he nods softly.

“i’m sorry,” jihoon whispers. “i didn’t mean to break the thread, it’s just always been like that since i was born. i didn’t even know i could do that, i’m really so sorry-”

“jihoon,” soonyoung says and jihoon immediately looks back up at him. there’s a soft, comforting smile spread across his face and the sun rays are dancing on his face. a delicate and graceful sight. “i don’t mind, i mean, i’ve been thinking about that for a while too.”

soonyoung’s confession ends with a slight lilt in his voice and jihoon stares back at him, surprise pulling his jaw downwards. he blinks and realises belatedly the flush that had spread across his cheeks.

“although my deduction was a little more simple — it kinda went like ‘hey!’ we have the same kind of string, we must be soulmates, right?” soonyoung babbles, an excited glint in his eyes. “but then you didn’t seem to make that sort of connection so i was thinking ‘maybe it’s just some sort of coincidence’.”

“it’s a severed string,” jihoon repeats slowly. “anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with me suffers from it.”

“that’s not true,” soonyoung points out. “don’t you have that one friend? jeonghan? and you said you had tons of friends in middle school too.”

“two.”

“well, two more than nothing.” soonyoung says, the same gentle smile on his face. jihoon can’t help but feel slightly comforted, even if the feeling of dread was still weighing him down.

“i ruined my parents’ relationship, if i hadn’t been born, if i hadn’t been given this power-” jihoon sniffs before he ducks his head down, his shoulders trembling. “maybe they’d still be together.”

“jihoon,” soonyoung says, his voice gentle. “what was it that you always say? that ‘the universe makes mistakes’?”

jihoon stays silent.

“what… was your parents’ relationship like?” soonyoung asks hesitantly. he lets the question float in the air aimlessly before he adds. “you don’t have to tell me, i mean, just think.”

“they weren’t happy,” jihoon says, his voice cracking. “it was so bad that their thread would fall limply to the ground.”

“but they might’ve had a second chance if it weren’t for me,” jihoon says, but the words didn’t sound convincing even to himself. “maybe, maybe if i hadn’t broken their string-”

“jihoon,” soonyoung calls and then there are hands cupping jihoon’s cheeks, warm palms encasing his skin in a blanket of comfort. “listen to me for a second.”

“it’s not my position to tell you this, but sometimes the universe makes mistakes.” soonyoung recites quietly. “the universe has to bring so many people together, don’t you ever think that the red threads tangle and fall apart? don’t you ever think that fate brings the wrong people together?”

“you were right, i can link people together, i can create soulmate threads.” soonyoung says, lifting up his hand and holding out out his index finger. “i had these friends, two of them — they were soulmates, happily together and all that, actually i think they were the campus couple.”

jihoon stares at soonyoung, his eyes burning with uncertainty, not knowing what soonyoung was getting at.

“and then they met this other dude, i kinda introduced them, well, i was close with the kid, they were my closest friends, i thought it’d be fitting if they met.” soonyoung says and the hands around jihoon’s cheeks weaken a little. soonyoung averts his eyes when he says the next part. “whenever they got together, they looked really happy. honestly, they even started hanging out without me around which i guess made me feel a little bad.”

soonyoung huffs a small laugh.

“but i don’t think i ever felt a grudge because i saw them hanging out at a cafe once and they looked-” soonyoung shifts his gaze again and he swallows. “like there were really happy, in love, probably.”

“and you know, this kid, he never had a soulmate, his thread was crumbled but still red, like it does when their soulmate dies.” soonyoung explains, his thumbs absently tracing jihoon’s cheeks in an attempt to distract himself. “i asked them once if they were happy, and i could tell there was something there — dissatisfaction? i could always see them looking back down at their own threads.”

“i guess the kid must’ve felt a little left out at times as well, considering he was hanging out with a pair of soulmates. i felt kinda bad for them, but i also really wanted them to be happy.” soonyoung says, his voice drifting towards quiet. “so one day when we were hanging out at one of their apartments, i had this strong urge — i don’t know how to describe it, like a tugging from the stomach — it told me that i really wanted them to be happy, not to be worried about this whole soulmate sham.”

“fall in love if they wanted to, anything.” soonyoung breathed. his eyes drifted back to look into jihoon’s own. “when i saw them laugh, the tugging feeling got really strong and it really felt as if time paused, like someone jammed a button and i could feel the course of fate shifting.”

“they were laughing, i doubt they’d even felt the change until one of them looked down and… and saw the red thread.” soonyoung whispered. “or more like the additional red threads.”

“they were connected by three red threads and i could see the shock on their faces, staring at the fresh crimson,” soonyoung exhales shakily, his hands falling from jihoon’s face and onto his shoulders. “i thought i had ruined their lives. playing with fate? what was i thinking? i didn’t have the right to just interfere with someone’s relationship like that.”

“they left hurriedly afterwards, probably to think about what just happened or discuss it somewhere more private — without me.” soonyoung sucked in his bottom lip, gnawing on it nervously. “i knew it was my fault, i had altered fate and i didn’t know how to face them ever again.”

“i went months avoiding them, just trying to run away.” soonyoung whispered, tears prickling at the side of his eyes and jihoon stared, wide-eyed. “but when they finally caught up to me again, when we finally met again, they looked really happy, jihoon. they looked so happy with crimson red looped around their fingers like a promise and in that moment, i think i lost a bit of dread.”

soonyoung stares at a spot on the wall behind jihoon, reminiscing before he snapped out of it, wiping his eyes with his wrist hurriedly. he fixes on the same comforting smile and jihoon knows that it’s genuine — there's understanding laced in his lips that none of the doctors that checked on jihoon on the regular had.

“jihoon, were your parents happy? i mean after their thread broke.” 

jihoon pauses, letting silence drag out. his mother had looked happier, she sounded lighter than he’d ever heard her and jihoon didn’t know how to feel.

“i don’t know about my father but,” jihoon says quietly and soonyoung’s hands and back on his cheeks again. “i think my mum’s happy.”

“she got a job and i think she laughed the other day when she came to visit me.” jihoon continued, his voice shaking with uncertainty. his mother had laughed, a pure sound that bounced off the walls of his ward. and when he had thrown back his blankets to look at his mother in surprise, her eyes were gleaming.

“then maybe what you did wasn't such a bad thing,” soonyoung says but his smile slowly fades when jihoon doesn’t reply. “umm, i’m sorry that sounded kinda pretentious-”

his hands almost fly away from jihoon’s cheeks but jihoon immediately grabs onto his wrists, holding his hands there.

“do you still talk to them?” jihoon asks. “your friends, i mean.”

“a little,” soonyoung says sheepishly. “i know they’re happy but i felt bad for interfering with their relationship and fate.”

“well, you shouldn’t.” jihoon says firmly. “you’re a kind person, soonyoung, and from what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like they blame you either.”

“but-”

“okay, let’s make a deal.” jihoon says curtly and soonyoung blinks in surprise. “i’ll talk to my mum and you’ll talk to your friends.”

soonyoung merely stares at jihoon.

“what? did i grow another head or something?” jihoon scowled even though traces of embarrassment were crawling onto his face slowly. 

“nothing, it’s just that i was supposed to be comforting you.” soonyoung replied dryly and jihoon immediately rolls his eyes, even if he looks away afterwards.

“just do this… so i’ll have enough courage to go and talk to my mother…” jihoon says quietly, averting his eyes.

“alright, it’s a promise, then.” soonyoung grins, lifting up his pinkie with the broken white thread. he looks at it for a second before some sort of realisation dawns on him and he stuffs his hands underneath his thighs. jihoon pauses, his arm half in the air. 

“what is it? we have to do a pinkie promise, don’t we?” jihoon said it like it was a matter of life and death and soonyoung flushes.

“um do we?” soonyoung asks, averting his eyes.

“kwon soonyoung.” jihoon warns and soonyoung yelps, holding both his hands out in surrender.

“i’ll do it! i’ll do it! i’m sorry it’s just that bad things happen when i’m so happy.” soonyoung says and immediately flushes afterwards. jihoon stares at the white thread on both their hands and it clicks — soonyoung’s afraid of forging a soulmate bond by accident.

“you don’t mind if something bad happens, right?” jihoon asks cautiously, his pinkie still stretched out as an invitation. soonyoung bites down on his bottom lip and he shakes his head slowly.

when soonyoung hooks his pinkie with jihoon’s there's a momentary feeling where everything rushes forward at once and then it slows back down. jihoon squeezes his eyes shut when something blooms inside of his chest, a petite feeling that opens to a flower. the pink petals fluttered, dancing with the wind and when jihoon opens his eyes, the flower is gone but the feeling remains — the feeling of being free.

there’s this lurch of excitement that makes jihoon almost throw up and jihoon glances up at soonyoung before his eyes cautiously move downwards.

he didn’t know what he was hoping to see, but there, between their fingers was a knot on his pinkie finger, a white knot. but instead of falling short, the thread tangled up around the bed, swimming in the air and jihoon’s eyes traces the thread.

they moved up, up, up and his pupils landed on a similar white knot on soonyoung’s pinkie.

when he glances back up at soonyoung, he’s smiling down at him, the brightest of lights in the corner of his eyes and jihoon feels a grin blooming on his face.

for once, even if the string isn’t exactly normal, jihoon feels like this is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter is more of an epilogue of sorts where i’m just tying lose ends up (pun unintended) also i don’t really like how i wrote this chapter but oh well it’s too late to change that.
> 
> also the friends soonyoung talks about are the maknae line !! just wanted to throw that out there because i love them.


	5. petals in the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final chapter!! it’s more of an epilogue and closing up things i’ve started in this story, i’m so sorry if it’s unsatisfactory i tried my best.

yoon jeonghan steps into the room and his eyes immediately fall onto jihoon’s pinkie like he could see the new thread on it.

“what happened?”

“huh? what do you mea-”

“don’t play dumb with me, lee jihoon, you look like christmas came early.” jeonghan cuts him off, waving the clipboard in his hands and dropping himself down onto jihoon’s bed unceremoniously.

“i don’t even like christmas,” the smaller’s face twists into a scowl and jeonghan smiles back sarcastically.

“a metaphor, child.” jeonghan says airily before he turns and faces jihoon. “so, what happened?”

“i have a soulmate,” jihoon says simply, but the tips of his lips curl upwards when he’s reminded of soonyoung and their pinkie promise. he lifts his pinkie up, showing jeonghan the white thread stretching out of the room — even though he knew jeonghan couldn’t actually see it.

“is it that kid that comes by every now and then?” jeonghan asks and jihoon blinks up at him in surprise.

“you know about soonyoung?” jihoon asks, his head tilting to the left.

“no, i was just kidding.” jeonghan sticks out his tongue at the younger, who only rolls his eyes back at him. “so, tell me about soonyoung.”

“no, that’s embarrassing. what are you? an overbearing parent?” 

“tell me,” jeonghan insists.

“why would i-”

“i’m your best friend,” jeonghan says innocently, batting his eyelashes at jihoon. 

“you’re not, though.” jihoon counters and jeonghan reels backward, a hand on his chest.

“ouch.”

“sorry,” jihoon grins, sounding completely unapologetic.

“soonyoung’s nice,” jihoon starts quietly when the laughter dies down. his lips are pulled into a lopsided grin and he doesn’t know how to get it to go away. “nicer than you, of course.”

“lee jihoon, you-” jeonghan grumbles, pinching jihoon’s thigh, the smaller shrieking in return. the shrieks turn into peaks of laughter and he’s clutching his belly, looking up at the ceiling not long after.

“you can bring seungcheol over again,” jihoon says, pushing himself upright, looking right at jeonghan. the older stares at him with surprise and jihoon feels himself flushing, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, if you want to, of course. i’ll probably be a little awkward but i’ll try my best this time.”

jeonghan blinks.

“i know last time went really badly but, i don’t know, i wanna do better-”

“okay,” jeonghan cuts jihoon off before he rushes into another ramble. “but only if you let me meet this soulmate of yours.”

“oh, um.” jihoon scratches the back of his neck with his index finger, the nail peeling against skin. “sure… and um, thank you, i don’t think i’ve ever said that.”

“for what?” jeonghan raised an eyebrow.

“for not being scared of me,” jihoon says quietly. “or wary of me.”

jeonghan rolls his eyes as soon as the words leave jihoon’s mouth. “that’s nothing to be grateful for.”

“it is!” jihoon argues before he huffs. “just- fine, if you don’t want the thanks.”

“no, i’ll take any sort of appreciation i get.” jeonghan hums. he pulls out a plastic container and lays it on the table before looking up at jihoon, holding up a metal spoon. “do you think you could say ‘i love you’ too?”

“don’t push your luck, you fiend.”

-

his mother steps into the room on a wednesday, a light smile on her face accompanied by cautious steps. she pulls the door open quietly and peeks inside. 

jihoon waves at her shyly, not used to seeing his mother after such a long time of hiding underneath his blankets. his mother was probably really surprised too, considering the way her eyes widened.

“jihoon!” she greets enthusiastically before she catches herself and pulls herself back. there’s a happy but restrained glint in her eyes and it makes jihoon upset that it was his fault that his mother was so wary of him.

not because of his abilities, no.

“hi,” jihoon greets in return. his mother pulls out a chair and sits on it gingerly, something graceful in the way she sits.

“i got a job,” she starts when the silence stretches too long. she’s looking at jihoon for some kind of reaction and jihoon smiles in reply, hoping she doesn’t see the way his lips twitch nervously.

“what kind?” jihoon asks. maybe it might’ve sounded like he was merely making conversation but he really did want to know.

“i’m an editor, at this company.” she says quietly, picking at the bag on her lap. “it’s really tiring but i don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun.”

jihoon wants to raise an eyebrow and ask her what would be so fun about an office job but he think his mother had her own reasons.

“that’s good,” jihoon says, a gentle smile on his face. he doesn’t know what else to say, considering it’s been weeks since he’s spoken to his mother like this. 

his mother smiles and she places a warm hand onto jihoon’s knee. the latter refrains from flinching away in surprise, but he does tense up when her skin touches his.

“jihoon,” his mother says, taking this chance to look at jihoon properly in his eyes. “i’ve never blamed you for anything you’ve done.”

jihoon clamps down onto his bottom lip. no, he didn’t want it to be this way. unfortunately, here he was now, the tears slowly filling up his eyes and he’s so desperately willing himself not to cry.

“honestly, i don’t think i’ve ever felt this free in my life.” she says and smiles reassuringly but jihoon can see the tears that start prickling in her eyes. 

jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and the first tear slips down his cheeks, making a pathway for the rest. he inhales shakily, sniffling and wiping at his eyes.

“i’m happy, jihoon.”

jihoon sobs, a cracked sound that escapes from his lips. he bends forward, his head lowered and he feels the way his mother pulls him into her embrace. he’s reminded of all those times when he was a child, wondering why his father never came home, wondering why his parents never seemed to be in love.

he thinks this is comforting, the way his mother’s arms wind around his frame and how she whispers a small ‘thank you’ into his ears when she’s closest.

_“thank you,” jihoon will whisper in return when the tears have washed their cheeks dry and there’s nothing left but each other._

-

the little park is packed with people for once and jihoon’s little alcove he's built for himself and renamed ‘home’ was nowhere to be found, blocked by the feet of patients or families.

“gonna miss this place?” someone whispers behind him and his breath brushes against the back of jihoon’s neck, causing the latter to shudder.

“surprisingly, yes.” jihoon admits when soonyoung comes to stand beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. he hooks his chin onto jihoon’s shoulder, surveying the scene in front of him.

“i should’ve known the one day i wanted to say goodbye would be the day this place would be filled with so many people,” jihoon grumbled grudgingly, causing soonyoung to snort.

“we can come back to visit,” soonyoung suggests and jihoon immediately scowls.

“please no, i might miss this place but visiting the hospital for the scenery sounds pretty fucking morbid.” jihoon deadpans and soonyoung pulls back from jihoon’s shoulder, laughing with his eyes closed. 

_besides, you’re already quite pretty yourself._

light bathes the top of soonyoung’s head and it dances around freely, playing on his eyes and lips. it’s warm and the wind hugs him goodbye, even if it’s a little sentimental.

soonyoung smiles back at him from a step away and jihoon can feel the way their thread tugs. a smile graces his lips, in the way it does when he his heart beats a little too quickly.

“getting that misty-eyed already?” soonyoung asks. the words are teasing but his tone is not; it’s fond and tender, like he’s staring at something so delicate.

jihoon scoffs but he doesn’t deny it. when he averts his eyes to the right, a pink petal drifts down from the wind, light and fluttering, riding the winds too quickly for his eyes to catch. it’s ironic, considering it’s summer, and petals don’t exactly bloom in that shade during the season.

soonyoung holds out a hand and jihoon stares at the white thread tied to the base of his pinkie. 

he thinks silently to himself that fate does make mistakes sometimes, in the way some people don’t get happy endings, or in the way sometimes tragedies occur, maybe war.

but at least fate had given him this.

he slips his hand into soonyoung’s, feeling the way his cold ones touch the warmth in his and something blooms inside of his chest.

“ready to go?” soonyoung asks softly. jihoon gazes around the place, watching the leaves rustle and the grass wave goodbye. he glances back at the pink petal on the ground and he hopes that no one ever steps on the delicate thing.

“yeah,” jihoon finally breathes when his eyes have raked over every little piece of the park. “i’m done.”

-

“jihoon, do you think we should have our wedding at the place we first met?” soonyoung asks, pulling down jihoon’s headphones and pushing himself onto jihoon’s lap.

jihoon glances down at him, a completely horrified look on his face. “soonyoung, we’re not having our wedding at a hospital.”

“that sucks,” soonyoung mutters before his attention switches to jihoon’s computer. “what’re you doing?”

“it’s a song,” jihoon says and the embarrassment was already seeping into his voice.

“what’s it called?” soonyoung asks, staring at jihoon with the brightest of eyes and jihoon thinks he can see pink petals swimming in them.

jihoon sighs and pushes his headphones down. a shy smile graces his lips and he tilts the screen so that soonyoung can see it better.

“tales of the flowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m really bad at ending fics because i usually don’t get to ending them? because i never finish fics? anyway thank you for sticking around and reading this :] if u wanna find me on twitter or sumn i’m @junqlues

**Author's Note:**

> 'tall guy and his soulmate' are mingyu and wonwoo by the way, not that it really matters considering they don't play a big role in this story aha. also i know jihoon and soonyoung's conversation doesn't really make sense right now but it'll be clearer after the later chapters.
> 
> also i appreciate comments or kudos, i run on validation, thanks


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